Chapter 33 A Public Lesson

Chapter 33 A Public Lesson
Selene’s POV
A Public Lesson

The next morning, the Academy was just there. I walked to my first class with my head down. The memory of last night just weighed down on me. Cael's robe was hidden under my bed. His scent seemed to cling to my skin, a constant reminder of my shame and my new plan.

In strategy class, the instructor droned on about border disputes. I tried to focus, but my mind was elsewhere. On the general's warning. On the purge. On the proof I needed to find.

I felt eyes on me. I looked up. A few students were glancing my way, then quickly looking down. The story of my fight with Cael had spread. They all knew I had lost. They all thought they knew what that meant.

I kept my face blank. Let them think what they wanted.

Suddenly, a sharp bell rang through the Academy. It wasn't the class bell. It was the emergency assembly bell.

A hush fell over the room. The instructor stopped talking. "Everyone, to the main courtyard. Now."

My heart started to pound. This was it. Had they found me out already? Did Cael betray me already?

We filed out of the classroom and joined the river of students flowing toward the courtyard. The air was thick with whispers and nervous energy.

The entire school gathered in the large stone courtyard. The sky was gray. The Headmaster stood on a high platform, his face so strong. Cael stood beside him, looking cold and perfect. His eyes scanned the crowd. When they passed over me, they didn't even pause. It was as if last night never happened. My heart squeezed for some reason. I thought… I swallowed and then looked away.

Lyra stood near the front with her friends. She smirked when she saw me. I ignored her.

"Students of Vanguard," the Headmaster's voice boomed, silencing the whispers. "Last night, a great crime was committed. Someone broke into my private office."

A wave of murmurs went through the crowd. My blood ran cold. His office? We had broken into the lab, not his office.

"They stole a valuable artifact," he continued. "A sacred moonstone amulet. It is a symbol of this Academy's purity and power."

I exchanged a quick glance with Riven, who was standing a few people away from me. He looked as confused as I felt. We had taken that amulet, but did it find its way back to his office?

"Through our investigation," the Headmaster said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, "we have identified the thief."

My breath caught. Oh, goddess. They were going to call me. I was done.

But he didn't.

"Joren," the Headmaster called. "Step forward."

Gasps erupted from the crowd. What? Joren? Cael's loyal second-in-command? The boy who followed every rule? He was this obedient kid.

Joren, a boy with sandy hair and an honest face, strolled to the front. He looked terrified. "Headmaster, I didn't—"

"Silence!" the Headmaster roared. "The evidence is clear. You were seen near my office last night. The amulet was found hidden in your quarters."

My mind raced. This was wrong. Joren wasn't a thief. He was too loyal. This was a setup. I was the one who took that amulet, not him!

"The punishment for theft, and for betrayal of the Academy's trust, is severe," the Headmaster announced. "It must be a lesson to you all." He said, his eyes scanning the crowd and zeroing on me for a few seconds before he looked away.

He nodded to two large guards. They stepped forward and grabbed Joren. They forced him to his knees in the center of the platform.

"Fifty lashes," the Headmaster said coldly. "Let every student bear witness. Let this be a reminder of what happens to those who step out of line."

My stomach twisted. Fifty lashes? That could kill someone. Or leave them permanently scarred. The first guard produced a long-looking whip. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I was frozen.

The whip cracked through the air. It landed on Joren's back with a sickening thud. He cried out. A red line appeared on his shirt. The crowd was utterly silent. You could hear every ragged breath Joren took.

Crack.

Another lash. And another.

Joren slumped forward, but the guards held him up. His cries became whimpers. I watched Cael. He stood perfectly still, his face just cold. No, he was watching his friend be tortured, and he showed nothing. No anger. No pity. Nothing.

This was the world he came from. This was the coldness he was made of. The lashes kept coming. Ten. Twenty. Joren's back was a bloody mess. His uniform had turned into shreds.

I felt sick. This was because of us. Because someone had broken into the lab, and they needed a scapegoat to scare everyone. They were using Joren to send a message. And the message was clear: step out of line, and you will be broken, humiliated, and disgraced. I wanted to scream. Beg them to stop, but I couldn't, not without endangering myself. I closed my fists and just watched.

The whip kept falling. Thirty. Forty.

Joren had stopped making sounds. He fell, falling unconscious, but the guards didn't care. They kept whipping his limp body.

Finally, it stopped. Fifty.

The guards let go of Joren. He collapsed onto the stone platform in a heap. He didn't move.

The Headmaster looked out at us. His eyes were cold and satisfied.

"Let this be a lesson in loyalty to the academy," he said. "Dismissed."

The students began to shuffle away, their faces pale and scared. No one spoke.

I stood there, unable to move. I looked at Joren's broken body. I looked at Cael's cold face. I looked at the Headmaster's cruel smile.

“Lira!” He called out, “A word?”